


It's Not Yours To Ruin

by Evechiveria



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alien Planet, Cultural indifferences, Reader-Insert, Twelfth Doctor Era, the doctor just wants a holiday, why can't he not get into trouble
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21523486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evechiveria/pseuds/Evechiveria
Summary: You and the Doctor just want to go on holiday on an alien planet and not have an adventure for once, but of course, that doesn't happen. Something peculiar is going down on Centauri Proxima B.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	1. How strange

**Author's Note:**

> I've tried to keep it gender neutral, but I'm sure at some point in the future I'll forget. If I do, it'll probably only be pronouns.

You wandered into the TARDIS and skipped over the bridge to the doctor. The Doctor was fiddling around with some of the controls, and there were nuts and bolts flying everywhere.  
"Where's Clara?" You ask.  
"She's- …off with her boyfriend again" the Doctor grunted. His head dropped down.  
"Soo, what are you up to?" You cooed.  
"I'm just fixing the flux capacitor" he answered.  
You sauntered around the TARDIS control panel, flicking all the knobs and dials. The Doctor shimmied the mechanism around, straightened his back and looked up.  
"Where're we going today?" You asked.  
You heard a large "click!" And the doctor stomped over to you.  
"I don't know, I thought I'd let you decide." He span the monitor around to you. It had various different solar systems on it, all absolutely beautiful. You scanned them all briefly, and landed on one in particular.  
"Alpha Centauri? Binary star system, that one."  
"'Bit like you, then" you muttered. He shot a befuddled look.  
"Two stars. Two hearts." You explained.  
"Oh, Yes. It is a bit." He stammered. The Doctor tapped in the relevant co-ordinates to the TARDIS controls, and gripped the panel tightly. The TARDIS shook with immeasurable force, took off, and span off into space.

Moments later, the TARDIS rattled and shuddered as it landed down on Alpha Centauri's habitated planet. The Doctor slammed the brakes on the TARDIS and waltzed over to the door. He span around, to face you.  
"Proxima Centauri B. Only planet in the goldilocks zone." He declared. "You humans didn't even realise it existed until a few years ago. I've been here before. Many, many centuries ago. Advanced civilization, it is. Prepare yourself, it's a bit like England."  
You giggled.  
The Doctor turned and thrust open the TARDIS doors, a wave of cold air hitting you both as you stepped out onto the alien soil. The Doctor shivered.  
"And this is why."  
"Jesus Christ! It's bloody freezing!" You winced. The Doctor made a waving gesture for you to go and clothe up, and you rush back into the warmth of the TARDIS.

You amble back out to meet the Doctor, layered up with as many coats as you could find- including the Doctor's usual hoodie, which he left off in favour of his maroon jacket. He was stood in the exact same place as you left him, looking off into the distance at the rocky mountains.  
"You know, this planet doesn't actually orbit the Binary stars, it orbits Proxima Centauri." You said, matter-of-factly. The Doctor raised an eyebrow.  
"Look at you, knowing things about space!" He chucked. "I thought I'd take you to a planet that was actually inhabited, thought it'd be a bit more interesting."  
He started to wander off, and gestured for you to follow. You skipped to catch up with him, and he gave a toothy smile.  
"How is it you've managed to choose the closest possible star system to your own solar system, eh?" he joked. You giggled. The Doctor rolled his eyes, still grinning away.

A few minutes later, after a calm, chilly walk, you got to a ledge. The ledge was steep, and very sudden. It was lucky the Doctor stopped you before you walked right off it. And past the ledge was a city made entirely of stone. Stone houses, stone hospitals, stone skyscrapers. For all the eye could see was sandstone stacked upon basalt, limestone reinforcing chalk, and marble framed with slate slabs. And bumbling about around all the stone framework where the inhabitants. Human shaped beings, with tall postures and broad shoulders. They were a pale lilac, and not close enough to see properly.

The Doctor looked at you, and looked down at the ledge. There was an odd chute-looking thing carved into the near-vertical rock wall. It looked worn with use, and you supposed that this ledge was a common obstacle. It possibly just a place children went to play. Either way, it was very handy it was there.  
"So? We going down then?" The Doctor grinned childishly, lowering his thin form to sit at the edge of the ledge.  
You moved without thinking, and pushed the Doctor down the chute. He squealed like a child and you quickly followed after him. The chute was rough on the bum, and at the same time, smooth as a slide. You were flying down it, like it was nothing at all. It seemed to be made of granite, which you knew was a very tough stone, to be this smooth. It seemed ny impossible, and you were sure the Doctor would attempt to explain it when you got to the end. You may have been enjoying the cool air snapping at your face as you were gliding down, the Doctor, however, was not. He was flailing his lanky arms around everywhere, and squealing his head off. The wind whipped against the Doctor's fluffy grey hair, and at his coat. It whipped so hard against his coat, it began to slip off his shoulders. The chute was completely straight, and if his coat flew off him, it would fly straight into your face. And before you could think any furthur on the matter, it did.  
"God. Damn. It!"  
The Doctor had only one layer between him and the ice-cold air now, and he despised it more than he despised pears.

A large pile of limbs appeared on the floor at the foot of the cliff, swiftly followed by a large pile of coats- which turned out to be a person. The Doctor groaned when you fell on top of him, and you jumped off of him.  
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!!"  
The Doctor rolled his eyes.  
"I could've killed you, I'm so sorry!"  
"Killed me? I'm more resistant than that." He breathed.  
"But you're so old and-… _Frail"_  
"Frail?? You think I'm frail? I have lived for over 2000 years, I have faced evils you cannot even imagine, and not once have I ever been called frail!" He bellowed. You giggled.  
He lifted himself from his tangled position on the floor, and dusted himself off.  
You reluctantly placed the Doctor's magician's coat into his outstretched, quaking hand. You could've added it to your coat collection of he could only withstand a bit more cold. He threw it over his boney shoulders. And just on cue-  
"That was incredibly smooth for a slide made of granite." The Doctor's brows furrowed, as if they could any more.  
"What do you think caused it?"  
He knelt down and trailed his fingers along the internal face of the chute.  
"It's lined with basalt. That would explain it."

"Do you two need any help? You look lost." An unfamiliar voice spoke. It was soft, and male. Hollow, but with tones of compassion. He was a lilac alien. His upper lip and nose were brought forward, in a sort of snout. Like a cat. His cheekbones were sharp, and his eyes wide and yellow. He had long spikes of skin growing out of his scalp, falling down to his nape. His skin was thick, and smooth. He seemed to be wearing what looked like 16th-century human clothing, except it was green, and had a futuristic- something, about it. More curves, less sharp edges, more circles. Something like that. He had a somewhat wavy manner, like he was going to be swept away with the wind at any moment.  
"Not lost, no. Just having a look around." The Doctor grumbled.  
"Ah, well, if you need anything, you can see me in my shop, The Needle and Thread." He weightlessly bowed, and disappeared into the street.  
"Makes sense he works in a clothes shop. Isn't it weird he was wearing humany-looking clothes?"  
"Hm. Yeah. How strange." The Doctor pointed his sonic screwdriver at the man as he was walking away, and it made its usual buzzing sound. He held it up to eye-level and examined it. The Doctor's brow knotted. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Very strange."

"They're called Thyravoltiis, by the way."

You tugged at the Doctor's sleeve, pulling him towards the crowded street.  
Every single person was wearing some kind of human clothing. Victorian frocks, Edwardian suits and even crop tops.  
"No, no. That isn't right." The Doctor aimed his Sonic screwdriver at the crowd, and checked the readings.  
"It still says there's nothing wrong." He huffed, and pocketed the sonic.  
"Are we going to investigate?"  
"We came for a break from adventure, but I suppose we have to now."  
You scowered the street for the man from before, until you saw him sliding into his shop. You pointed at the shop, and the Doctor nodded.

It was homely, and a warm pink. Felts and silks hung from the rafters, and there were iron-clad red-wooden buckets full of threads and strings littering the floor. Rickety shelved lined the walls, top to toe covered in cups of sewing and knitting needles, buttons and zips. Weaves and sewing machines were strewn about the place, atop home-woven deep damask rugs. There were no tables or chairs, but instead small circular mats surrounded by square silk pillows. Half-finished pieces of clothing were hanging from every feasible place they could hang from, and there were mannequins in every corner of the room, mismatched with random finished pieces.  
The thyravoltii man was sat at one of the sewing machines, affixing an arm to a beautiful red silk torso piece. He was alone in the shop, bar a small creature sat up on one of the shelves, its snout buried in a bowl of diced blue vegetables.  
"Ah! You have come to see me. What do you require?" He beamed his wide golden eyes down at you and the Doctor.  
"Where do you get the patterns for your clothing?" The Doctor spoke in his husky voice.  
"Well that would be- erm..." The man shuffled in his seat. "That'd be the boss man himself!" He gave an uncomfortable forced smile.  
The Doctor frowned.  
"You don't know the Grand Master?"  
"No, I don't believe we do." He raised an eyebrow.  
"He's the one who's brought all these wonderful things to our people! He came from the stars and brought with him wonders we could never even have imagined!" The man chanted.  
The Doctor shot you a troubled look.  
"And where does this 'Grand Master' reside?" You .  
"Well- well his office is in the town square, but he lives under the Sandreja Mountain, over in the west" the man stuttered.  
The Doctor grabbed your arm, and dragged you out of the shop.  
You both clung to the exterior wall of the shop with worry.  
"How. The. Hell." You breathe. "It's only 2019! There's no way humans can get to Alpha Centauri yet!"  
"I know. I don't quite know how either."  
"We need to investigate."

The street was full of bustling thyravoltiis, going to and from work, school, and the shops. It was paved with slate, and the pavement lined with cobbles. There were many trees planted in large cracks in pavement, their bark was a burnt umber, and their leaves were pink. They glistened in the cool sunlight, some leaves brushed with reddish dust. Children sat at the foot of the trees, giggling and playing with the little snouty creatures. The street was full of little hight-street businesses. Coffee shops and green grocers, tailors and butchers. Strange flying reptiles flew in and out of the shop signs, swooping down to the ground to snatch dropped meat in their toothed beaks. A group of thyravoltiis were crowded around, throwing chunks of meat at squabbles of the reptile-creatures, recording videos of them choking on the chunks. They reminded you strongly of seagulls.  
It was easy to blend in with the crowd, as almost everyone was wearing human clothing.  
The problem was finding this 'Grand Master''s office.

Apparently this 'Grand Master' deemed city map-boards an important piece of Earth culture enough to have them littered everywhere. How helpful.  
"Doctor! Over here!" You pointed at the very quite detailed map of the town.  
He held up his sonic screwdriver up to the map, and landed his finger where this 'Grand Master''s office was.  
"You didn't need to do that. You could have just looked for it."  
He chuckled. "We would've been here for ages. It even says where all the benches are on here!"  
You giggled.  
The 'Grand Master''s office was located in the town square, along with a suspicious statue. Likely of him.  
The square was red brick, and the town hall at the end was too. It had tall polished marble pillars holding up a large balcony, lined with spiked iron railings. The Doctor lazily gestured forward.  
"Found it."


	2. You're sure he must've.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologise if the tense gets mucked up at any point, I tried to make sure it's all consistent, but sometimes some bits slip me by.

You leant over the receptionist's desk and dinged the little bell to get her attention. "We would like to speak to the 'Grand Master'."  
She span around and gave a deadpan look.  
"He's in a meeting right now." She gave one of those forced smiles that look like a punched quiche.  
"Well when will he be free?"  
"Hmmmmmmmmmm.… I don't know, maybe ten minutes or so?" She twirled back in her chair and continued tapping things into her keyboard.

You sighed. You both wandered over to the little padded stools, and you sat down on one. The Doctor did not.  
"So what do you think he's playing at?" He whispered.  
"I don't know, world domination? All the bad guys seem to have that in their agendas."  
"Bad guys don't tend to give out presents."  
"They do if it's to shift your awareness of what's happening." You unzipped you outermost coat, and sank your hand into a pocket. You pulled out a ten-pence piece, and rolled it around your fingers. "Think about it like this-" You held up the coin. The Doctor was watching, wide-eyed.  
It disappeared. You reached over to the Doctor's ear, and pulled the coin from behind it.  
"Ah, very good." He grinned.  
"Do you see what I mean though?"  
He nodded.

The large red-wood doors at the end of the room flew open, and a very flustered businessman stomped out. He leant over the receptionist's desk and shouted into her ear, "That's the last you're seeing of me, love!", and stormed out of the room.  
Her face fell.  
The Doctor bimbled to the desk. "Can we see him now?" He asked in his gruff voice.  
"Uhm, yes, he should be free now" she said slowly, her eyes sullen and tearful.  
You and the Doctor wander over to the huge door, and push its heavy boards open. The room behind was massive, three times the size of the reception (which was quite big for a reception in itself). There were red-wood desks and spinny chairs all over the middle of the room, with pens and papers littering them. All the tables had a peculiar cup-sized coal-coloured stands on them, attached to silvery disks stood upright. As you and the Doctor walked closer to them, you noticed they weren't as smooth as you thought they were. They were cross-hatched, like microphones; but papery thin. The tables were all facing a single wall, in an almost cult-like fashion. The walls were all painted white, and were layered with colossal paintings. The only things in place of paintings on the walls were two windows, on the opposite wall the the door, and an incredibly large television-looking thing.   
In an instant, the television flickered on, and a large pair of eyes appeared, filling the screen.  
The Doctor skipped over to one of the desks, and leant down at one of the microphones.

"Hello?"  
The eyes weren't yellow.  
"Who is this?"  
The skin surrounding them wasn't lilac.  
"Is this this biblical 'Grand Master' we've been hearing so much about?"  
The eyes were sullen, old.  
"Helloooo?"  
The skin was contorted, like it had been stretched for miles and folded back onto itself.  
"Is this even live?"  
They blinked.

"Yes, sorry. I was just having a look at you." The voice was British, a stereotypical fancy voice with refined words. Hoarse and croaky, but very deep. "Not a thyravoltii? How did you get here?"  
"How did we get here?" You perked up. "Why is that what you're asking?"  
"Well humans haven't invented inter-stellar space travel yet. I thought that was a given."  
"How do you know we're- I'm -human?"  
You whispered to the Doctor, "surely he can't know what humans are?"  
"I was just thinking the same thing." He muttered back.  
"What do you mean, _you're_ human? Is your father not?"  
"Absolutely not my dad." You growled.  
"We look the same age, anyway." The Doctor said idly. You rolled your eyes.  
"No, I'm not a human."  
The eyes widened. They focused on the Doctor, and squinted.  
"You're sure? You look like one."  
"Definitely not."  
"Well, what are you then?" The eyes widened again.  
"Hey, how come you get to be asking all the questions?" The Doctor briskly wiped off the question. Why would he tell someone he's just met? Oh, yeah, because he's the Doctor. He tells everyone. But maybe this is different?  
He frowned. He picked up the microphone, straightened his back, and spoke. "So who are you, 'Grand Master'? Why've you got the locals calling you that?"  
The eyes sank. Their eyebrows crashed together, and knitted with one another.  
"That, I'm afraid, you'll have to find out for yourself." The right eyebrow broke away from the other and rose high above the eye it protected, leaving the left behind to shade its eye. The unsheilded eye closed shut for a split-second in a wink, and the screen suddenly flickered black. The 'Grand Master''s voice echoed in the hallway, "Get those two out of my office!" and you heard heavy footsteps thundering up to the door outside.  
Two tall men, laden with thick leather jerkins came booming in, and firmly grabbed you and the Doctor by the wrists. They dragged you out of the office and out into the outside, and thrust your arms out of their grasp.

You rubbed your wrist, it had gone an unpleasant shade of red. The Doctor huffed.  
"Well that wasn't very courteous." You whined.  
"It wasn't, was it?"  
You skipped down the steps. "Sooo…." You looked at the Doctor, and your eyes twinkled. The Doctor cocked his head. "He had nice eyebrows." A grin broke out across your face, you couldn't hold it back any longer.  
He chuckled. "How very rude."

"Where to now?"  
"I don't know."  
"What about shopping?"  
"Oooh shopping's a good idea." The Doctor sank his hand into the pocket of his blazer, and pulled out several worn coins and notes. They were in the local currency, and you had absolutely no idea how he had them in his pocket.  
"Where did-?"  
"I always carry around change." He began to saunter off, and left you stood with a puzzled look on your face. Briskly, you scampered to catch up with him before he got too far. "So."  
"So?"  
"Shopping! On an alien planet! In small actual shop-shops!" You squeaked.  
The Doctor let a subtle smile creep onto his face. Though, something was wrong.  
It was getting further away. Why was his smile getting further away? You know it's rare, but it's not repulsive?  
"Doctor?"  
Stretching.  
"Yes?"  
Further.  
"Doctor?"  
Hard to reach.  
"Yes, what is it?"  
Harder still to see.  
Doctor?  
Blurry.

Doctor.

You were falling. At least, it felt like you were. Your mind and eyes were sinking into the core of the planet, leaving your body behind. Going on an adventure of their own. An adventure to your deepest secrets, your deepest fears. Sinking deep into your subconscious, into the shadow of your mind. Where only dread and paranoia dare sleep. It was dark, vivid dark. Piercing into your utmost desires, letting their hopes bleed out upon your aspirations.  
Your heart hurt. It hurt like you'd been stabbed by ten thousand needles made of the sun itself. It felt like you'd lost all that's dear to you ten times over. Like you'd lost and lost and lost and it was boring a hole through your heart and breaking through to your very soul.

Bang! You snapped up from your resting place, and shake your head. There was a dull pain seeping through it, like you'd been hit on the head with a chair.  
You were in a dimly lit room, all dark and brown like a basement. There were metal beams crossing the ceiling, looking like they'd fall down at any moment, and wooden boards lined the walls, fraying and cracking like strings of meat. The floor was made of a hard stone, with a carpet made of dust and pebbles. It was cold, and the cold cut at your skin and made it bleed out its heat. There were candle sconces on the walls, but only a small few are lit. Their glow casted a ball of light into the sullen room, illuminating lucky pieces of wood and... Leathery, smooth, creased… skin?  
Oh dear Lord, that's a face.  
Your eyes focused on the figure, it was tall and lanky, draped over a weak wooden chair like cloth. It is pale, deathly pale. It looked like a thyravoltii, but pieces are missing. It's hair-like skin drapes had been completely severed, and there was dried blood running down the side of the poor thing's head. Its skin had blotches of its original colour, and blotches of pale coral, and looked like someone had tried to tan it like leather. Its snout has been carved out of its face, strings of muscle were dangling out from the gaping hole above its mouth. Pieces of skin had been sewn to the top and outer sides of its eyes, possibly in a vague attempt to make its eyes smaller. Patches of its shoulders were stripped of skin, presumably to put over its eyes, and were oozing blood. It was a he, and he was as thin as a twig, his flesh hugging his bones so tightly it looked as though it might snap them.  
As your eyes began to adjust to the dim light levels, you realise that it isn't just him in the room with you.  
There were about five other mangled thyravoltiis draped over chairs around the room. All with blood dripping down their features, all unconscious and quietly wheezing. 

"Oh, Jesus Christ!" You raise your arm up to lift yourself up from the table, and it jolts to a stop. You've been tied down. Now you realise it, you noticed it's really tight. Really, quite tight. You glanced down at your ankles, and they'd been tied down too. Your chest began to hurt, you heart rate had picked up to a panicked rate.  
"Arrughhh!!" You flailed your arms around in a pathetic attempt at wriggling loose. No use.  
The contorted bodies surrounding you didn't so much as stir at your distress. They just stayed slumped, struggling to breathe.  
The Doctor must've noticed you were gone. He must've! You're sure he must've. He's probably looking for you right now!  
But he's not here. And you're alone. Strapped to a desk surrounded by mutilated bodies, alone.  
A tear trailed its way down your paled face, and your eyelids fluttered closed, pushing out more tears that joined the stream down your face. Your heart was racing. You're totally alone. The doctor isn't here. The doctor isn't here... He said he would always keep you safe, and he's not... Here.…  
You layed back on the table, your heart gave one more feeble pulsation, and you fell into a sea of pitch unconsciousness.


End file.
